


Campeador et Magicus (The Champion and the Mage)

by LynsFantasy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (he's an ambiguous magic-user who may or may not be a demigod), (sort of), Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, Amputation, Ancient Rome, Champion Shiro (Voltron), Gladiators, Healing, Lotor is chill, Lotor is not bad, M/M, Magic, Magic-Users, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sendak is bad (sorry Sendak stans), Sendak is referenced, Trans Keith (Voltron), Trans Male Keith (Voltron), Witch Keith (Voltron), not entirely historically accurate but just roll with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 04:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15089183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynsFantasy/pseuds/LynsFantasy
Summary: Keith has never been interested in gladiator fights. In fact, he hates the needless violence. But there is one gladiator, the Champion, whom Keith will watch fight, not because Keith likes seeing him in danger, but because he needs to see that the Champion makes it out of the fight alive.But even the best fighters can stumble.





	Campeador et Magicus (The Champion and the Mage)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FullmetalDude1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullmetalDude1/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Logan! Sorry this is late in your timezone, and I'm really sorry this is only chapter 1! I'll get the second chapter out soon.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Roman Coliseum, gladiator fights, and amputation.

The smell of blood and sweat hit Keith’s nose, and he frowned in distaste as he followed Prince Lotor into the stands of the Coliseum. This was far from the first time Keith had come here, but he never liked it. Still, Lotor insisted that it was normal for nobility to attend the games, and since Keith was currently posing as a lord of one of the Greek provinces visiting Rome on business, it made sense for Keith to “indulge” in the “pleasures” Rome had to offer, including its entertainment.

It was slight comfort that Keith at least got to sit with Lotor in the Emperor’s box. Lotor’s father was not attending today’s games, so Lotor and Keith had the box to themselves, except, of course, for Lotor’s friends Ezor and Acxa, who were both dressed as males and posing as Lotor’s servants.

The cross-dressing aspect was part of why Keith felt safe with Lotor. Even though Lotor didn’t understand why it was so important to Keith that he _needed_ to dress as male and be treated as male no matter what Keith’s body looked like, Lotor rarely ever questioned it. Lotor kept close female friends who often cross-dressed whenever it was convenient or advantageous for them, and Lotor himself had put on female disguises whenever it suited his needs, so he hadn’t batted an eyelash when Keith admitted that his body was female. For Lotor and his friends, cross-dressing was part of their disguises and tricks, but it was something more to Keith. Still, Keith was glad that they at least didn’t think he was weird or perverse for it. In fact, they were perfectly willing to address him as male even in private, which he was forever grateful for.

Of course, Keith didn’t just hang around Lotor because Lotor and his friends were nice to him. They also had business together. Keith was one of a rare few who could tap into the magical abilities of the gods. The first time Keith’s father had witnessed Keith’s powers, he had shaken his head and murmured, _“So she was a goddess…?”_ From that day on, Keith’s father had assumed that Keith was a demigod, which seemed likely enough, considering Keith’s powers, but Keith didn’t know for sure.  He could never admit this, of course, but sometimes he wondered if the gods even existed. Magic was real, he knew, but he never really found evidence of the _divine_. Still, that was beside the point. Keith’s magic was the reason Lotor had sought him out a few months earlier, and it was the reason Keith and Lotor continued to work together.

For the most part, Keith and Lotor got along fairly well, and Lotor rarely ever pressured Keith into anything uncomfortable, and on the rare occasion he did, he always had a really good reason to encourage Keith to go through with the thing Keith did not want to go through with.

Including, in this case, coming to the Coliseum. Keith absolutely hated watching gladiator matches, but this was a normal form of entertainment in Rome, so if Keith was going to blend in and keep up his disguise persona, this was… perhaps not _necessary_ , but definitely _highly recommended_.

His one comfort was that the _Campeador_ – the Champion – was fighting today. The few times Keith had seen him before, he’d been awed by the man’s fighting style and efficiency. He didn’t draw out his kills for the entertainment of the crowd like many of the other gladiators did. He fought quickly, cleanly, and ruthlessly, pinning his enemy as soon as possible and then looking up to the crowd for the verdict of death or mercy.

“Are you alright?” Lotor asked, drawing Keith out of his thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I’m fine.” Keith looked down toward the Coliseum floor, absently watching workers set it up for the show.

Lotor sipped from his glass of wine and motioned for Keith to do the same. Then, he said, “You seem to be displeased.”

“You know I have no taste for this.”

“Neither do I.” Lotor’s expression turned sour. “This pointless bloodshed is barbaric. If I ever become Emperor, I plan to outlaw the entire practice. But until such time, we have an image to maintain.”

Keith sighed. “I know.”

“Besides, the Champion is playing today.” Lotor looked over at Keith curiously. “I thought that would make you more eager to watch.”

“I suppose.” Keith shrugged. “I mean, I do love watching him fight, but I’m also constantly worried for him.”

Lotor paused, seeming to consider Keith’s words. “I suppose you’re right. His _lanista_ , Sendak, does not believe in mercy. If the Champion falls in battle, he will be killed, or else Sendak will kill him as soon as he is returned to him.”

Keith shivered, hating the thought of that. Battles without mercy had been outlawed long ago for a very good reason, and yet, even so, many gladiators still died because they were not popular enough for the crowd to want to spare them. Most _lanistae_ – managers of gladiators – were pleased when their gladiators came back alive, but, according to the rumors at least, Sendak was a cruel and merciless man who believed in weeding out the weak.

Before any further conversation could be exchanged, the entertainment began, and Keith watched with detached horror, trying _not_ to commit the images he saw to memory. He could almost pretend that what he saw was fake, but he knew it was all too real.

At the height of the night, halfway through the full roster of entertainment, the Champion came out. Keith sat up straight, now watching intently and nervously. Tonight, the Champion was up against a gladiator about his same age, who was a little smaller and faster than the Champion. Usually, gladiators were known for their strength or skill with weapons, so the Champion’s speed and minimal armament was surprising, but it worked. No one else fought like he did, until this more recent gladiator came along. Now, the two were facing off against each other to see who the _real_ Champion was.

Keith bit his lip. The Champion couldn’t afford to lose, not now.

As the fight began, the Champion initially looked like he was doing well. He very quickly put his less experienced opponent on the defensive as the Champion pressed his advantage and attacked. However, it quickly became clear that his opponent wasn’t avoiding because he didn’t know how to fight back. At the first opportunity, the opponent slipped past the Champion’s onslaught and nicked his thigh with the point of his blade. The injury was mild, but it was still first blood, and the crowd was going wild with excitement and bloodlust.

The Champion recovered quickly, launching back into a rapid series of attacks, but Keith couldn’t relax. He balled his fists, leaning forward and watching intently. He could practically feel Lotor’s gaze on him as the prince looked in concern at Keith rather than the fight, but Keith’s attention was focused solely on the figures below as the Champion and his opponent engaged in their deadly dance.

The crowd roared and Keith felt cold with fear as the opponent nicked the Champion again, spilling more of the Champion’s blood onto the ground below. Keith’s nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists. This was not going well.

Finally, the Champion managed to score a hit back, and the crowd cheered their excitement. However, before Keith could even begin to relax, the opponent struck the Champion again, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. Keith wanted to look away, but he _needed_ to see what happened next. He needed to know if the Champion would survive.

The fight dragged on like this, with the Champion and his opponent trading blows and injuring each other. The opponent seemed to marginally have the upper hand, but the Champion was holding his ground, and it was hard to tell which would win out in the end. Although Keith was not enjoying the violence and tension, he kept watching, afraid for the Champion’s life.

Then, so fast that Keith nearly missed it, the opponent removed a cord with weights at the ends from his belt and threw it at the Champion’s feet. The cord did its job, entangling the Champion’s feet and causing him to fall. The Champion quickly moved to get up, but his opponent was faster, planting his foot on the Champion’s chest and bringing his blade to his throat.

The crowd _screamed_ , but they sounded far away to Keith, who stood up as if in a trance and remained there, frozen, even while the rest of the crowd gave the hand signs to express their desire for the Champion’s fate. Everything was a blur and a haze, and the only sensation that broke through to Keith was Lotor’s hand on his back as Lotor also stood. Lotor looked at Keith questioningly, worried.

Keith looked up at Lotor with fear shining in his eyes. “Please, spare him.”

Lotor looked around at the crowd, and so did Keith. Some called for mercy and some called for death, and Keith couldn’t tell which had more. “You know what will happen if he is sent back to Sendak,” Lotor said gravely.

Shaking his head, not in disagreement but in denial, Keith begged, “Please, just spare his life. Don’t give him back to Sendak. Just… spare him somehow, please.”

The prince hesitated, and more and more eyes were directed to him as the crowed waited for his verdict. Finally, Lotor locked eyes with the _editor_ – the director of the games – and make a gesture that was far from standard. He used his left hand to strike his right upper arm in a chopping motion – an unmistakable gesture for cutting. The victorious gladiator looked over at the director to verify, and the director copied Lotor’s gesture.

Keith looked away. The Champion screamed. The crowd gasped and cried out and murmured excitedly at this rather unprecedented turn of events.

Turning to Acxa, Lotor said, “Tell the _editor_ that I will personally pay the recompense for the Champion, and, in exchange, I want him to get the Champion medical treatment and then to allow my friend to take the former Champion as his own personal slave.” He unclipped a small pouch of coins from his belt and handed it to Acxa. “Give him this as an advance payment.”

Acxa nodded and left. As soon as she was gone, Keith turned to Lotor. “What… what are you doing?” he asked, utterly confused.

Lotor offered Keith a bitter smile. “I could not simply spare him, not with at least half the crowd calling for his death and Sendak’s policy to consider, but you asked me to spare his life. I decided that this could function as a compromise. He cannot fight anymore, not with one arm, so his defeat is as permanent as death, but he is still alive, and now, he will be your property.”

“I don’t want him as my slave—”

“Then set him free once he has healed,” Lotor interrupted, looking annoyed. “For obvious reasons, I cannot hand him over to Sendak, and I do not have the time to care for him myself, so the only logical choice is to give him to you. Besides…” His expression softened. “Your skills make you almost uniquely qualified to care for him until he can be freed.”

Keith considered this, then nodded. Lotor had a good point. Besides, Keith did like the idea of caring for the Champion personally, especially after worrying for him so intensely during that fight. “Alright. Thank you, Lotor.”

 “You’re welcome. Now go. Ezor can lead you.” With that, Lotor gestured for Keith to go, so Keith followed Ezor to an area he had never been in before at the ground level of the Coliseum. Acxa was waiting there for them, and once Keith had joined Acxa, Ezor turned and left, presumably heading back to Lotor. Keith and Acxa waited together for a while, probably a quarter of an hour, before a Coliseum worker approached Acxa and talked to her, making arrangements for handing over the former Champion to Keith. Once they were finished with their conversation, the worker left, returning a few minutes later with the former Champion.

The Champion’s ankles were shackled together with a chain long enough to allow him to walk but not to run. His left hand was bound behind his back with ropes in a messy fashion that clearly conveyed that the workers _wanted_ to bind his hands together but had no idea how to bind only one hand. They had also put an iron collar on him with a chain, which the worker attempted to hand to Keith. The only good thing they had done for the Champion was give him medical treatment as per Lotor’s request – the stump of his right arm was thoroughly bandaged up.

Keith hesitated, looking over at Acxa, who thankfully rescued him from having to argue with the workers about this by doing so herself. She demanded to know why they had done this when this had not been in Prince Lotor’s instructions at _all_ , and the workers sheepishly removed the restraints. Acxa then grabbed the Champion’s upper left arm and directed him out, and Keith followed a pace behind as Acxa led them both to a cart.

Acxa took hold of the horses’ reins and urged the horses to set off, heading toward the edge of the city, where Lotor’s semi-secret personal house was, as well as the guest house on the same property that Keith was currently staying in. “I apologize for that,” she said once they had gotten away from the Coliseum. “I did not instruct them to bind you up like that.”

Keith realized with a small measure of surprise that Acxa was apologizing to the Champion, and he saw the shocked look on the man’s face as the latter realized the same thing. “It… it’s fine,” he said, and his voice was somewhat higher and lighter than Keith had been expecting, though it was also rough with exhaustion. “It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“Still, Prince Lotor will not be happy when I inform him what happened.”

“Prince Lotor…?” The Champion sounded like he was in disbelief. “Am I being taken to him?”

“No.” Acxa pointed back at Keith. “ _He’s_ the one responsible for you now.”

The Champion looked at Keith, and Keith offered him a hopefully reassuring smile. “I asked Lotor to spare your life,” Keith explained. “Lotor said that giving you back to Sendak would be as good as killing you, so I agreed to care for you.” That wasn’t _precisely_ how that conversation went, but Keith figured that was all the detail the Champion needed to be concerned with right now.

“I… see.” The Champion sounded hesitant and unsure. “So, I am your property now?”

“Legally,” Keith verified. “But we can address that later. First… what is your name?”

The Champion averted his gaze. “They call me Syros,” he said. “I have no other name.”

_Syros_ – the Syrian. Keith felt anger rise up in his chest at that. He had guessed from the man’s appearance easily enough the very first time he saw the Champion fight that this man was Syrian, but the fact that he lacked any other name meant that he must have been a slave or captive from a very young age. Still, Keith forced himself to calm down. “Alright,” he said. “What do you _want_ me to call you?”

The man shook his head. “Syros is fine.”

Keith wanted to disagree, but now wasn’t the time for that argument. Syros looked exhausted, and Keith really just wanted to get him home and heal him as soon as possible. “I see. Well, Syros, I hope you don’t mind living with me for the time being.”

Syros nodded. “Of course,” he said almost mechanically. “It’s fine.” Then, a moment later, he asked, “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing,” Keith said immediately, and Syros looked surprised. “I just wanted to spare your life. Once you’ve healed up, I plan to set you free.”

“Wait… what?” Syros looked absolutely shocked. “Why would you do that?”

“You deserve it. Sendak should have gifted you your freedom long ago as a reward.”

Syros shook his head. “You don’t understand. Sendak was being merciful to me just by keeping me alive. I’m a criminal. I was supposed to die in my first fight.”

Keith frowned. He hadn’t heard this. “You’re a criminal? What did you do?”

“I… I attacked my master,” Syros explained, “trying to escape.”

“Oh.” Keith was relieved. “Well, don’t attack me, and we won’t have any problems. You don’t need to try to escape. I’ll free you.”

Syros looked at Keith in awe and confusion. “Who _are_ you?” he asked.

Keith gave him a little half-smile. “I’m Keith. If anyone asks, I’m a lord of a Grecian province, but… my actual homeland is Syria.”

Realization dawned in Syros’ eyes. “So, you…”

“I’m tired of our people being captured in battle, enslaved, and used as toys for entertainment. I know it’s not…” He sighed. “I mean, my plan wasn’t to go around buying Syrian slaves to set them free, but I couldn’t just stand by and let them kill you.”

Syros gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad I can keep you safe now.”

They settled into a comfortable silence after that, though Keith noticed after a moment that Syros would occasionally wince in pain. “Does it hurt?” he asked, gesturing to Syros’ arm stump.

Syros nodded tensely. “They gave me a drug to numb the pain, but it seems to already be wearing off.”

Keith hesitated, but then he said, “Let me help.” He rested his hand on the top of Syros’ shoulder and concentrated energy through the bandages, focusing on numbing the area. He could work on healing later, but for now, he simply wanted to ease Syros’ pain. “How does that feel?” he asked after a moment.

“Much better. How did you do that?” Syros looked at Keith with no small measure of awe.

“Let’s just say my heritage is not my only secret,” Keith answered, giving Syros a secretive smile, and he was happy to see Syros mirroring the smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this, especially Logan! Even if you're not Logan, I still hope you enjoyed this so far, and I always appreciate comments, questions, and feedback.
> 
> Part 2 coming soon, I promise, and I'm going to dial up the Sheith in that part.


End file.
